Song of A Caged Bird
by Epsilon Scorpii
Summary: She's still too young to understand at the moment, so her father fashions a simple lie to placate Katniss' burning curiousity – he's a boy with nowhere to go, and the Peacekeepers will hurt him if they discover that he doesn't have an identity, so he's going to live with them under a low profile for the time being. His name is Cato. Long One-Shot. Complete.


_-x-_

 _Song of a Caged Bird_

* * *

…

 **I.**

They say he's born from a Career district. They are forbidden to say it aloud, so no one mentions it, but hushed whispers travel throughout District 12, and when the lights wink out parents turn to their children behind closed doors and holds them close, and warns them to stay far. Nobody seems to know how he managed to arrive unknown into their midst, but everyone is wise enough to hold their tongues and keep a wide berth around the enemy.

 **II.**

She's still too young to understand at the moment, and Prim is still a gurgling toddler tottering around the house on unsteady footsteps – unknown and unfearful of the caliginous, shadowy world outside the grimy windows. So naturally their father forgoes the truth and fashions a simple lie to placate Katniss' burning curiousity – he's a boy with nowhere to go, and the Peacekeepers will hurt him if they discover he doesn't have an identity, so he's going to live with them under a low profile for the time being. Be nice to him, he says, and he hopes they'll become friends.

Katniss is only nine at the moment, but despite the adults' belief she's not as naïve as they regard her to be. Sometimes her gaze peeks from beneath her mother's shielded arms, and however they try to cover her ears they can't block out the screams when the Peacemakers decide to make an example of rebel leaders. Living in a district battling famine and poverty she's learnt to read expressions from a young age. She knows to fall silent when the adults' faces are hard and emotions are ensconced in an unknown recess of their hearts. She knows to obey without hesitation when she hears the silent urgency in her father's tone. She knows to feign ignorance if only to relieve the anxious looks darted in her direction. She knows how to pretend.

This time Katniss wants to protest, she wants to demand to know more and reveal the truth shrouded in the dark, but once more she recognizes the desperate plea in her father's voice that forces her to comply. And so she does, but with a stinging bitterness coupled with curiousity when the new family addition arrives at their threshold in the dead of the night.

His name is Cato.

He is older than her by a few years, but Katniss can tell he is considered rather tall for his age. He's isn't lanky or thin as other boys his age in the District often are, but a lean wiry figure. The rumours that he had been training to be Career has reached her ears, but even though she keeps it to herself she can't help but wonder at her father's short-sightedness; there is no disguising the fact that Cato is no peasant from the Seam. They are written in the firm set of his jaw, his cheekbones, his build; the way he carries himself with an aristocratic haughtiness that no one will associate with their district. His silver blonde hair stands out in the crowd, and he has a shock of brilliant blue eyes no one else does.

Katniss tries to give him a chance like her father insists she should, but a sweep of his cold keen eyes and an expression of barely concealed disdain flits across Cato's features the moment he steps foot into their household. Katniss' heart burns with a quiet anger and her instant dislike towards him only spikes when her mother pushes her from beneath the shadows and plants her right before him, as if she's expected to welcome him into the Everdeen's house like he's some sort of distinguished guest.

"Meet my eldest daughter, Katniss" her father says with a fixed smile. His tone is almost placating, and Katniss is for once disappointed in her father whom taught her to grow up with a strong sense of right and wrong, and encouraged her to fight bravely but wisely for everything that was worth.

A tense frigid silence falls over the room when Katniss only glares back with defiant eyes. Her stubborn unyielding grey ones clash with piercing azure, as if she's attempting to stare down the elder boy even if he's almost a foot taller.

Neither of them says a word until the quietness is punctuated by Prim waddling out from the gloom, eyes blurry from sleep.

Her little sister remains innocent and sheltered from the outside world, so it's no surprise that she takes one look at the tall strong boy whose features are thrown into sharp definition standing under the low-lit lamp and takes an instant liking to him. She doesn't know what it means to be a Career, the things he's training to do and become. She does not understand the cruelty of the Capitol and the savage inhumanity of the Hunger Games.

Prim stumbles over the last few steps towards Cato whose icy gaze is fixed unwaveringly on Katniss'. Behind them there's a slight rustle of movement when her mother secretly reaches for her youngest daughter, afraid, only for her husband's disapproving gaze to freeze her in motion. Prim side-steps the adults easily and sneaks past Katniss. It's comical that she's the smallest and most fragile out of all of them, yet she is the only one unwary and blissfully oblivious of the imminent threat Cato posed. It's not until she gently tugs on Cato's hand which is balled into a tight fist that he breaks gaze with Katniss and looks down. Prim's head barely reaches his thighs.

"I'm Prim" the young child chirps at him with the brilliant smile she always wears. Cato makes no move, but under the light something behind his eyes changes, and when he looks down there's a softer edge to him somehow.

"Cato" he says shortly, to no one in general.

Prim isn't discomfited and she isn't afraid. She's already craning her neck to look up at him as if he's her favorite long-lost brother and Katniss has a feeling that Prim will soon be asking Cato for piggyback rides. Something clenches at her heart and Katniss reaches out to pull back her younger sister, disregarding her father's hope for putting up a friendly and hospitable reception. Immediately something in Cato's expression shutters and he's as cold and unapproachable as he's always been.

There's the faintest brush of uncomfortableness when she catches that look, but Katniss pretends not to notice and averts her gaze. Inadvertently she catches her father looking at them in unfathomable sadness and her mother standing rigidly in the background, her nails digging marks into her palm. Katniss flashes Cato a look filled with pure animosity before turning on her heel.

"Night Dad, Mum" she says in clipped tones. She steers Prim back towards the small cramped room they share and snaps shut the door. Any louder it would be considered a slam. She's furious; both at Cato and also at her parents. They barely had enough to get by each day, with her occasionally skipping breakfast with flippant excuses just to ensure Prim was well-fed; what were they thinking of bringing a _Career_ boy to their district, much less under their roof? It's clear that Cato is disgusted at what he sees, scoffing internally at the best they can offer with no idea how much sacrifices they were paying just to feed an ungrateful mouth. She doesn't even know the reason _why_ , but she's supposed to keep it all a secret.

Involuntarily her eyes burn at the injustice, but she swipes at her face angrily before Prim notices. She looks down and catches her sister's wide eyes, and she isn't sure whether she feels better or worse at her sister's clueless innocence. She decides on the former and leads Prim back to the bed with a tight smile. When she's tucking the thin covers over Prim's slight frame however her sister voices out her fears:

"Is he goin' to stay with us forever? He's our brother?" Prim murmurs sleepily.

Katniss frowns, a worried slash between her eyebrows. "I don't know" she replies Prim truthfully, "but no, Prim he's definitely not our brother."

There's a slight vehemence in her tone when she enunciates the last word, and she's pretty certain that Prim is confused by the inflection that skips over the word 'not'. But Katniss has had enough pretending for the day and she doesn't try to explain. She crawls under the covers and turns her back towards Prim so that her sister can't see her over-bright eyes.

…

 **III**

They attend school together the next day.

There is no clear distinction between students of different ages, only that of relative age group, so Katniss is forced in between Cato and Prim as they head towards the institution. Frankly she finds it a waste of time, especially when she realizes that today there will be another long-winded blather of Panem's glorious history. Prim however doesn't mind, she skips along to keep up with Katniss' strides and says nothing. Sometimes Katniss catches a soft melody hummed under her sister's breath. Katniss isn't surprised. Prim is popular both among her age mates and beyond; to Prim, school is fun. Her sister is cheery, loving, kind – everything she's not. She doesn't resent Prim for that though; quite on the contrary she loves her sister all the more for it.

Then, in a completely opposite element, to her right Cato stalks silently like a creature of doom. His footsteps are light and agile but his eyes are always calculating. He is always on edge, always assessing as they walk down the streets, as if he's memorizing the landscape to discover an escape route out of the poor district. He's wearing a large jacket with a hood covering most of his features, but aside from that Katniss fails to find anything else about him that is inconspicuous. Everyone knows everyone in the Seam and Cato is much too tall to pass for anyone else.

Her heart gives a slight flip whenever they walk past a Peacekeeper, as if she's expecting them to be apprehended and whipped on the spot. And every time that happens, she can't help but resent her father's orders for her to bring Cato wherever she goes. She knows she's expected to discreetly show him around the District, but Katniss has no inclination of doing anything of that sort. Anything they have is pitifully meager compared to Career districts and will doubtlessly be scorned upon anyway.

The streets are filled with worn out coal miners straggling to work in the early morning. Katniss leads them past the main gate where Peacekeepers are standing guard with shiny silver pistols peeking out menacingly from their holsters. She scurries some way upfront until they reach a low ledge separating the Seam and the merchant's section. It's a short-cut to their school.

Keeping a discreet eye out for any watching Peacekeepers, Katniss beckons them over silently. It occurs to her that it's a bad idea to bring Cato via their secret route on his first day in the Seam, but it's an ingrained habit in which she had overlooked at the time. She supposes it's innocent enough – they aren't so much as explicitly forbidden to cross the fence as much as they are merely expected to enter through the front gate, she reasons to herself. But that doesn't mean she's lowering down her guard.

She swings herself easily over the ledge in a fluid action and reaches back for Prim. It's always been that way. But when she turns around there's something in Cato's expression: hardened and tense, as if he can too taste the suspicion and lurking danger of being discovered. The expression unnerves her; it reminds her of the adults' faces when there's a public flogging of a rebel. She swallows, but before she can so much as chance another look at the Peacekeepers standing at the gate, Cato's already moving. In a single action he scoops up Prim and hauls her over to the other side while he crosses over himself.

They are standing in the shadows between two houses now, safe and out of sight. Katniss wants to say something about the way Cato had handled Prim - he might have been careful but that wasn't to say he was as gentle as Katniss was with her sister. Prim doesn't seem to mind though, she's flashing a grin at Cato as she says 'thank you'.

But there is something strange about him. His façade of cold indifference is gone and he looks alert, _too_ alert, as if he's expecting danger to creep upon them from every corner. His shoulders are stiff and he's tense, and Katniss realizes that he's automatically shifted into a fighting stance. He's prepared to fight, she realizes, and by the looks of it he's good at it too.

When it's apparent no one is coming after them Cato relaxes slightly, though his gaze remains razor sharp. He glances sharply at Katniss when he notices her watching, and his tone is hard and biting.

"You would think that the kids here would be less dense enough to _understand_ the rules" he says scathingly.

Later Katniss will reflect on the day's events and wonder just why he's so close to overreacting. It'll be only a long time since when she'll connect the dots that hints the strict and harsh discipline that governs District 2, forcing even the youngest children into subservience and unquestionable obedience by physical brutality. But she's annoyed and angry at Cato's scathing remark and her temper flares as she taunts back, "What, afraid of a little rule-breaking? Then what on earth are you doing here?"

The effect is instantaneous. A flash of fury passes across Cato's face so fast, but in that fleeting moment Katniss is almost afraid that he will lash out at her. Instead his fingers curl into fists and his eyes grow dark and he glares at her so venomously the atmosphere becomes suffocating. He takes a menacing step closer. Katniss momentarily forgets to breathe even as she drags Prim behind her and forces her chin to tilt upwards in a show of defiance. She doesn't think she can outmatch this Career-in-training but at least it'll buy time for Prim to run.

Some of her fear must have shown because the anger at the edges of Cato's eyes melts away, but goosebumps prickle over Katniss' skin at his cold gaze.

"I hate this more than you do," he hisses through clenched teeth, and there is a maelstrom of emotions flickering behind piercing blue eyes; hurt, pain, fear and most of all fury so intense Katniss has to resist the urge to flinch. "You have _no idea_ why I have to put up with this! Do not presume you know anything about my life."

His knuckles are white from the strain. Behind Katniss she feels Prim stiffen and clutch at her hand tightly, but instead of feeling vindictive satisfaction that Cato's image as Prim's 'favorite brother' has been undoubtedly shattered all she feels is fear and a small well of guilt.

Cato turns and stalks away blindly. His footsteps ring angrily in the tense silence until he disappears rapidly around the corner.

It's not until a full minute later does she wake from the stupor. She blinks away the image of angry, cutting blue eyes boring holes into hers and silently tugs on Prim, who looks so scared that a flash of anger stabs at her heart. What right did Cato have? He was the one staying in District 12 needed to be treated a special houseguest. Nobody wanted him around. He had been the one who had started it, but he'd blown off the top the moment she retorted a comeback.

Wordlessly Katniss leads her younger sister the rest of the way to school, but after dropping off Prim at the younger kids' class a cloud of worry claws at her mind. There is no way Cato knows his way around District 12, and he isn't even supposed to be here. The thought of a Peacekeeper stopping Cato to question him sends a shudder down her spine, and before she knows what she's doing she's already up and running, tearing down the streets, dodging people and flying past houses. She doesn't stop even when her breathing grows heavy and her legs numb and tired. She runs all the way back to where she's last seen him, and runs up to the main gate, but to no avail.

Cato is nowhere in sight.

…

 **IV**

She misses school altogether that day. And it isn't until noon when she's spent from searching through the Seam and even visiting the Hob when she finally finds him sitting in a small quiet alley near the fence, facing the vast forest that lay out in the open.

He gives no indication to have heard her, but Katniss notices the slight tightening of his muscles when she steps a little closer, out of breath. At the sight of him she's abruptly reminded of his anger and the reprimands and curses circling her head throughout the whole morning die on the tip of her tongue. Instead she approaches him quietly and says uncertainly, "You shouldn't go off alone."

He doesn't look as angry as he'd been when she's last seen him, but his tone is no less biting than before.

"What, afraid I'll kill someone? As tempting as it is it'll draw attention and that's the last thing I need right now."

Katniss does not take him seriously. In all honesty the thought hasn't even crossed her mind, because Career-in-training or no, Cato's still a boy. He looks dangerous and she has no doubt that he can wield almost any weapon he gets his hands on, but he doesn't have the cold detached indifference Katniss recognizes in hunters. She sees it in most of the Peacekeepers guarding their district, she sees it in the guards and to some extent Effie Trinket who announces the tributes for each Hunger Games every year. In a few years he may come to be like them, but as of now he's straying dangerously close but not quite.

"You might get lost, or worse even caught. I hope that's enough of an answer for you," Katniss retorts, trying to keep her tone cold. She's apprehensive around him now, wary of his temper and capabilities, but somehow fearing the flicker of hurt darting across his features even more.

"So _you_ purposely skipped school to make sure I didn't get lost or caught _,"_ Cato says sarcastically. Katniss levels an even look right back at him.

"My dad may be found out because of you. You're right when you say I don't understand what's going on, but I can't let that happen."

To that Cato gives no reply. He continues to stare moodily into the brooding silence, leaving Katniss to hover beside unsure of what she's supposed to do. Pride and guilt wars for supremacy in her heart, but in the end she chooses still to honor her father's wishes and tries to make amends.

"I'm going to get Prim after school. Are you coming?" she asks finally.

Cato doesn't react all, and he doesn't look at her. But when she gets up to leave so does he, and they walk together for the rest of the way towards school.

…

 **V**

Weeks follow a month, and nothing much changes.

Cato isn't found out, and Katniss isn't anywhere closer to discovering the reason behind his stay in District 12. It seems to her that her father is putting in greater efforts to include Cato into the family, but their mother remains cautious and Katniss unmoving. Prim is the only one aside from Mr. Everdeen who cares to engage Cato in a single-sided conversation, because Cato never replies. She's already forgotten about the incident on their first day to school, and she's back to looking up to Cato with some sort of reverence younger sisters normally have for their older siblings much like she does for Katniss.

By unspoken mutual consensus Katniss on the other hand barely communicates with Cato at all, save the occasional slight nods of acknowledgement. Katniss thinks it's a wise choice seeing as Cato is just about as prickly as she is. Avoiding all contact is perhaps the best way of preventing arguments.

That's not to say she's not resentful. She's just getting better at hiding it. Her father works twice as hard each day to feed them all, and Katniss skips her meals more often now for her sister to have a decent share. It's clear that tough labor is taking the toll on her father when he seems to age rapidly, silver running through dark hair and lines carving into his face and crinkling the edges of his eyes, but he says nothing of it. He always comes home with a smile, with kind words, humming 'The Hanging Tree' under his breath.

It isn't until one night when a storm rages outside the doors and rattle the windows when things change, if only by a little. The thunderstorm howls and screams as it whirls through district 12, uprooting trees and destroying fences in its wake. The loud cracking of thunder splits the night air like a gunshot, and in her room Katniss bolts upright from sleep as if she's been struck. For a moment she lies awake in a haze of unknown terror, then suddenly a flash of lightning illuminates her room in a blaze of white light. In the single moment she reaches automatically for her sister, only for her eyes to fall on thrown-off covers and an empty bed.

Her heart misses a beat at the realization; the thunder booms overhead, drowning out her cry of "Prim!" She hates thunderstorms, and her sister is terrified of them. Another clap of thunder, and she's lurching to her feet, gripped by inexplicable fear. She lunges for the door blindly, bursts out into the living room. There's no electricity, there's no comfort of light. She stumbles around in the darkness, her breaths escaping between her lips in non-rhythmic pants and she gropes around for someone, something she _knows –_

"Katniss?"

It's as if a switch is thrown on. For the first time, a rush of relief floods through her at his voice. She tries to call out but there's a lump in the back of her throat and the feeble sound she makes is drowned out by the rain. Another flash of lightning catches the living room, and she sees Cato sitting on the floor, his hair tousled and blinking sleep from his eyes.

"Hold on" his voice says when they are once more plunged into the dark, and she hears a rustling of movement as he gets up carefully. There's a blur of movement somewhere near the counter-top, and quite abruptly like spring sun breaking through winter the candle flame springs to life, instantly dispelling the darkness with a warm glow. The first thing she notices is the figure curled up beside where Cato had been – Prim, firmly bundled in both hers and undoubtedly Cato's blanket. The tension in Katniss' shoulders melts away instantly, and she stands there stunned and transfixed by the sight.

Cato approaches her slowly. He settles the candle on the table where it throws long flickering shadows of light on the walls and turns to face her. He clears his throat uncomfortably and gestures at Prim. "She just – found me," he says in an awkward attempt at explanation.

Katniss doesn't know what to say, so she simply nods. She remains still as a statue when Prim whimpers slightly in her sleep, her hand flailing out of her cocoon of blankets to catch at Cato's leg. She watches silently as Cato throws an uncertain look in her direction before bending down and patting Prim's hand awkwardly, reminiscent of a bear patting her 'little duck'. Prim murmurs a little, and Katniss snaps out of her daze to gently smooth Prim's hair, as if to soothe her fears. The creases in her sister's brow melt soon after, leaving two of them hovering over the sleeping five-year-old uncertainly.

"I guess I'll be sleeping here too," Katniss says, finally, breaking the silence. The pitter-patter of the rainfall outside seems suddenly gentler somehow, beating a steady staccato rhythm instead of the wild ferocious pounding previously. Cato raises an eyebrow at this, his mouth quirked into a smirk-smile as he regards her, "Too scared to sleep alone?"

"It's only because Prim's here," she snaps back but her voice lacks the usual venom. Somehow the banter manages to relieve some of the awkwardness in the room. It makes her feel decidedly better. Cato gestures carelessly to the floor as if allowing her to pick her sleeping spot first, and she wordlessly cuddles up with Prim, drawing comfort from her soundly sleeping younger sister's figure close next to her. Cato settles on the floor a distance from them, though he's close enough for an arm's reach.

When Katniss is settled down with Prim, he leans over and blows out the candle softly. A part of Katniss registers that it's everything she would have done for Prim, and inexplicable warmth spreads through her heart at the reverse in roles. She decides that she likes this little change.

So as the room is thrown into darkness again, and Cato can no longer make out her expression, neither can she see his, she speaks aloud to the ceiling.

"Thank you."

…

 **VI**

It's been four months, two weeks and three days since the night Mr. Everdeen brought Cato to their doorstep.

Katniss finds that she knows very little of the boy. He's everything she's imagined a Career to be; swift, silent, strong and cold. He doesn't seem much different, except that sometimes he can be a shade warmer if he chooses to, like on the night of the storm, or when he always helps Prim over the ledge when they take the short-cut to school despite his unvoiced but obvious disagreement.

But today, for once, Cato isn't on her mind, neither is the reason behind the secrecy of his stay in District 12. Because today is Reaping Day, and even if she knows she's still too young to be chosen as tribute, she's all too aware that all too soon it'll be her turn. In a few years she'll be standing in line, writing down ' _Katniss Everdeen'_ on a slip of paper. She'll watch it swirl with hundreds of others inside the crystal orb while the lady with flamboyant bouffant hair reaches into the glass and picks a slip of paper with jeweled fingers… a small slip of paper that can determine her life and death.

"…and the male tribute for this year will be…" Effie Trinket pauses for a dramatic effect, her bright painted lips parted to reveal a hideous smile. "…Antra Mellark!"

Katniss' heart gives a painful thud. She watches from the sides when a young man is escorted onstage by two Peacekeepers. He looks too stunned, too shocked to even react. His skin looks so pale it's almost as if he'll faint off the stage.

Katniss doesn't know him personally, but she recognizes the name 'Mellark'. She recognizes the head of straw-blonde hair that works in the bakery, she recognizes the bright blue eyes that soften whenever he catches her digging through their rubbish pile hopeful for a treat before looking away. She has never really known his name until this final moment, when he's sentenced to his death.

Antra Mellark doesn't say anything, neither does anyone expect him to. Perhaps they too think that he's on the verge of collapsing. The people from the Capitol fuss over the newly selected tribute, and within minutes he is pinned between two Peacekeepers as they flank him away from the tittering crowd.

Katniss bites her lip and averts her gaze. The old horror resurfaces in her, burning and aborning from deep within, the same kind of horror she'd felt when she had finally learnt for herself what the Hunger Games are and every consequent Reaping Day after that. Prim's almost her age when she first found out, but unconsciously Katniss keeps it to herself, and she finally understands why the adults do the same.

This year it's worse. Because for the first time since she can remember, it's a familiar face that's being torn away from home, a face she's known her whole life that she'll never see again.

As the crowd slowly thins out, hushed whispers traveling solemnly through them as they parted, Katniss feels a familiar presence over her shoulder. It's Cato, and while it's extremely dangerous for him to be venturing about with the Peacekeepers so near, his concern is directed at Katniss even if she's too preoccupied to notice it. He flounders for a while as if trying to think of something nice to say, and finally offers a quiet, "He may bring honor to the District."

Katniss knows in her heart that he's trying, and she knows that it's the way he's been brought up that makes him believe in the glory of the Hunger Games. But at the moment she's already teetering at the breaking point, and Cato's words only add coal to the fire.

"Of course that's what you'll say!" she spits at him, uncaring that they're not entirely alone and it's a public setting, "But guess what, we're not from a district full with twisted cold-blooded killers!"

She turns away sharply and runs, away from Cato and away from the pale, drawn faces of the Mellarks.

But still she's not fast enough to miss the flash of hurt across his features before they darken and Cato turns away.

…

 **VII**

Antra Mellark doesn't make it to the finals. He's killed by a spear through the abdomen by a Career tribute from District 1 and finishes off eleventh in place.

The people in District 12 mourn the loss of a young boy, the baker's eldest son. The Mellarks receive a few condolences; Antra had been a quiet but compassionate boy. During that period of time Katniss avoids the bakery like a plague; she's bad at those kind of things and Mrs. Mellark's temper has only soured with the demise of her son. She doesn't dare to risk being caught scavenging through their bins for burnt pastries again.

Slowly but surely people start to forget. It's been this way every year with the exception of Haymitch Abernathy as far as they can remember, and things show no sign of changing anytime soon. Like fresh coal dust settling over the newly swept roads, life resumes its dull monotony and District 12 moves on wearily.

Cato, however, doesn't.

It's evident that he's gradually loosening up around them now: he smiles faintly at Mr. Everdeen's jokes and he humors Prim to some extent. Sometimes he wordlessly helps Katniss' mother with simple chores, taking the plates or the broom from her hands with a clipped 'I'll do it'. But he doesn't acknowledge Katniss, and he steers clear of her path.

There are moments when Katniss wonders why he's been avoiding her. She's gotten far too used to his presence that she forgets the reason behind his cold shoulder; and when she steps through the door and tries to give a greeting only to be met by rejection, she's suddenly, rudely, reminded. She still holds her pride in too high regard still to apologize, but the truth is that she's tired of waiting for him to come around. She's sick of his blunt refusals at her subtle ways to make amendments, and she's grown to hate the awkward stilted silence that falls over the house whenever they're both in the vicinity.

She wonders how long Cato can manage to hold a grudge, and if he can do it better than she can, but it's been a whole solid _month_ and he has yet to let up anything.

There's also the fact that the whispered rumors growing about Cato who had been temporarily left out of the gossip mill during the Hunger Games has been revived back to life. He remains invisible from the Peacekeepers, keeping his head low and features hidden most of the time – and privately Katniss thinks Cato bears more physical resemblance to both Prim and her mother than she does. But it's a given that he's unfamiliar with the people around the Seam, and it all feels like a bomb waiting to tick – all it would take was a tip-off to the Peacekeepers and Cato would be found out.

Katniss hopes her father knows what he's doing, because she definitely does _not_ comprehend the situation, neither does she know what she can do about it if it really comes to that.

But quite suddenly, one day, Mr. Everdeen isn't there anymore.

It's strange really, that the very morning she'd been sulking on the way to school, when Cato's actually responding to Prim and her sister's childish laughter is ringing in the air, leaving her to hover between them both like a stormy cloud. She'd been thinking of ways to show-up Cato, and then wondering if he could be bought over by food, or if Cato would come round if she simply shoved him into mud like the other boys did in school – scattered and silly, inconsequential things. She had even been thinking of bringing Cato a small treat from the bakery providing she found anything.

And she did. Only that when she'd been round to the bakery's rubbish dump, Mr. Mellark had found her crouching there, and he'd pressed some cakes into her hand with a serious, forlorn look, 'for your mother', before shooing her back home.

By the time she's reached their old house, she's already so afraid she could have dropped the cakes and she wouldn't have noticed them. Her braid has sprung loose and her hair wild and falling around her face in a messy frizz. She's raced the whole way back, never stopping, because twice she's been held up and she's growing alarmed and scared at the tidings the adults' expressions are hinting at. She's heard things about a mine explosion and many 'casualties' but she doesn't relate them to her father; her father who always crinkles a tired smile for her when he arrives home, who fashions humble wooden bracelets for their birthdays, who works and toils hard just to feed them and apologizes when he can't spoil them as much as he wants to –

The tears are coming now, thick and fast, because in her heart she already knows what's waiting for her behind closed doors. She's praying with all her heart that her father is one of those grievously injured but not fallen, not dead, and she'll go in and hold his hand and tell him it doesn't matter if he can't work anymore because _she_ will take his place, she'll work for the family's daily meal, she'll do whatever it takes so long as he's just _there_.

The wooden door is left slightly ajar. Broken sobs are echoing through, one choked and restrained, one a pitiful child's cry. Katniss doesn't dare to go in. She stands there frozen in the flickering candlelight slipping through the crack, her face set in hard stone, but her vision blurs and her heart is shattering to a litter of shards as if no one can ever piece her whole again.

…

 **VIII**

She doesn't allow herself to grieve.

There are too many fears, too many misgivings. She's afraid that once she starts her tears can never dry and she'll end up as broken and hollow as her mother is now.

So she doesn't think. She doesn't think of what she's supposed to do with Cato when he's inevitably found out. She doesn't think of how her mother is barely coping, staring blankly with deadened eyes into space and rubbing Mr. Everdeen's wooden bead bracelet between her fingers like it's the only thing anchoring her to earth. She doesn't think of how Cato had abruptly disappeared a day before and that he doesn't seem to be coming back.

All she cares about is Prim, whose life suddenly depends on her and no one else.

She pilfers through dustbins. She works. She scrapes. She begs. She does anything and everything just to provide a meal on the table for her family.

Strangely still, the hardest thing she's had to do is watch her sister cry.

She can't stand it when Prim's bright blue eyes tear up. She's even more afraid when Prim voices out all their fears that shakes her to the core, because she's scared that she can't be strong enough to hold it together, to pretend and comfort her little sister that everything will be alright.

But now even during the day, her troubles surface ten-fold: she's running out of options fast. People in the streets that took pity on her quickly turn and look away when they see her. Nobody can spare her meager pinches of food. Katniss cannot blame them, she knows meals however paltry are hard to come by.

She also knows they can't go on any longer like this.

By the fifth day Katniss is dizzy with hunger, spent and desperate as she stumbles through the streets in the Seam aimlessly.

Twilight is glowing faintly in the horizon as she stands beside a dirty white fence, which its path on the other side leads straight up to the Hob. Even the faint glimmer of evening light is fading rapidly, to be swallowed up by encroaching dark clouds. Red, purple and orange dance in a blur of coloured lights like phosphenes, but the moment she blinks they are gone.

In that brief moment she wishes the light will snuff out. She wishes the night will come and swallow her whole so she'll become numb and unfeeling. It had to be a better alternative to whatever she had now.

She turns her back on the setting sun and tries to be brave for the last time. Cray, the Head Peacekeeper is standing outside of District 12's black market, swaying slightly as he clutches his liquor. A young girl little older than Katniss grovels before his feet, she's crouched head down on her knees, clutching at Cray's boot as if it's her lifeline. She is pitifully thin, and even the ragged ill-fitting dress doesn't disguise the horrifically sharp outline of her shoulder blades.

Once upon a time Katniss might have burnt with indignance at the scene; she's told herself before that she'd rather starve and die than beg a man like Cray.

She forgot to consider that it's exactly what she would do, if only for Prim.

For a moment she's swayed, and she stumbles forwards slightly as if to join the girl at Cray's feet. Pride is nothing, she realizes, when it's compared to family.

A hand seizes her arm, tightly.

She turns around clumsily. It's Cato. His azure eyes are wide and sparkling with an emotion she can't seem to identify. She dimly notes that there's sorrow and something that hints of remorse, but there's anger there too – especially when he doesn't let go his firm grip over her hand. He pulls her closer and begins to tug her down the street none too gently. Katniss tries to resist, but she's weakened by fatigue and hunger and she could never beat his strength anyway.

When they are safely out of sight, only does Cato let go, but he reaches out and tilts Katniss' chin up forcefully to meet his stern eyes. She doesn't know why, but the action wrecks a tremor throughout her body and a lump forms in the back of her throat. She pushes him away roughly, or tries to, because she hates for anyone to see her tears, most of all the arrogant boy from the Career district.

But the arrogant boy from a Career district isn't here. Instead Cato shoves what she recognizes to be their laundry basket into her arms, and when she looks down it is filled with plum, ripe berries. They are a mix of red, purple and black, some accompanied with leaves and thorns, but Katniss knows enough to recognize that they are all edible. She blinks away the blurriness in her eyes to see better, but while she gazes down at the fruits, stunned, Cato takes her by her shoulder gently but seriously and bends down to meet her eye-level, as if he's talking to his own younger sister.

"I'll be back with more food, I promise," he says in a low voice, and Katniss stares at him as if she's spellbound, unbelieving. His eyes rake up and down the street and there's a flash of anxiety in his sky-blue eyes that she doesn't miss, but it's quickly replaced by desperation and something remarkably like contempt when he looks back at her, and his voice turns hard and demanding: "Do _not_ beg from Cray. Don't even go near the man! I'll be back soon - "

He's broken off by Katniss' involuntary shake of her head. It's clear that he's anxious to go, and fear keeps him darting his eyes as if he's trying to penetrate the darkness with his intense gaze to reveal its dangers, but before he leaves he seems to notice something in Katniss: as if she's already at breaking point and she's lost and hurt as doesn't know where else to turn. He fights his instincts and turns round a final time to pet Katniss' head awkwardly, who is still barely up to his shoulder and catches her red-rimmed eyes with his own.

"Don't give up just yet, alright?" he says, trying to sound gruff, but his voice only betrays him. He swallows. "I won't let you down, I swear."

…

 **IX**

Katniss first takes the berries to Prim.

She feels the oddest urge to cry again when she sees pale thin fingers wrap around each juicy berry preciously, and Prim savours each bite of sour fruit by rolling it about on her tongue across her palates and delaying each swallow as long as she can make the taste last. She takes some herself, and the spicy sweetness of some of them awakens her senses and burns comfortably in her stomach. They share half of the berries between them before Prim snuggles back into bed with a contented sigh. Then she brings them to her mother.

Mrs. Everdeen doesn't even try. Her eyes barely give Katniss a glance; they slide over her like cold water before returning to their empty stare at the blank wall. Katniss feels a sear of pain in her chest at the gesture, but it is swiftly replaced by a stab of fury. Not trusting herself to speak Katniss carries the basket and places it purposefully before her mother, invading the space between Mrs. Everdeen's chin and her tightly clasped fingers. Mrs. Everdeen's mouth tightens.

"Take it away," her mother says in a quivering voice. "It's blocking your father."

Katniss doesn't know what she's talking about, neither does she care. Her only response is to shove the basket even closer, so that it's almost digging into Mrs. Everdeen's chest.

"I _said_ take it away," Mrs. Everdeen repeats with a hint of unstableness creeping into her tone.

Katniss ignores her mother and holds it firmly in place when her mother attempts to push it away. It's not a gesture out of pity or concern. Instead she's staring down at the old, skeletal shadow of Mrs. Everdeen coldly. Katniss isn't certain what she's trying to accomplish: but she knows what she wants; she wants to provoke her mother, prod her until Mrs. Everdeen's selfishly apathetic exterior is shattered.

Her mother loses it then. A glint of wild, unhinged anger breaks to the surface and Mrs. Everdeen swipes the basket off the table accompanied with a piercing shriek. The basket is sent toppling over the edge and the berries scatter like marbles across the floor, rolling over dust and disappearing into the shadows.

Katniss doesn't blink. She doesn't even flinch when her mother looks up at her, wide tormented eyes anguished and half-crazed with grief.

Katniss drops down to the floor and begins to pick up the berries with a frightening speed. Her vision swims and becomes hazy but she bites down on her lip hard to distract the pain and refuses to let a single tear fall. She won't allow the _woman_ before her to witness her in such a state. She's strong, she's better than _her,_ better than to let emotions get the better of her own actions.

Wetness prickle threateningly at the corner of her eyes, and a roil of unadulterated hatred bubbles hot and scalding in her heart.

She scrabbles blindly in the darkness, fingers brushing against dusty floorboards, catching dirt and sharp edges and sometimes the plump bodies of the fruit. In a rushed frenzy she collects all she can find back in the basket, which she picks up and throws a cloth over it to cover them. When she's done, she stands up tall and stabs Mrs. Everdeen with a look of purest contempt she can muster.

Mrs. Everdeen doesn't even notice. She's frozen in her seat, her eyes glued to the same wall where the candle is gradually burning out, and the shadows are growing longer and fainter. Katniss is dimly aware she is shaking, but she pushes past the tremor in her voice to speak:

"Y-You're _pathetic."_

It doesn't come out the way she wants it to: strong, furious, dark and meant to hurt, to jolt her mother from the blank stupor of a puppet with cut strings. Instead it takes her three tries to choke out the first syllable into sound, and the last word squeezed from her throat is a broken whisper she barely hears.

There is no reaction, and the silence cuts her deeper than anything else her mother can do.

Katniss whips around lightning fast and dashes out of the house, a sob thrashing to break free in her chest. Her throat is searing with painful agony and her heart hurts so bad it's difficult to breathe. It doesn't even cross her mind to look back. Because despite everything Prim doesn't leave her mind, and she knows her little sister will be jolted awake by her mother's scream, scared and waiting for Katniss to comfort her, but for once Katniss has to disappoint her little sister. She can't hold it in.

She makes it as far as the steps before she slams the door behind her and sinks onto the floor. And there, like a dam broken loose, she cries for the first time since her father died. The sobs tear from her heart through her body, sending spasms of pain constricting her chest until she can barely breathe. She's too bitter, too exhausted to even bother to swipe away the rebellious tears seeping out of the corners of her eyes no matter how hard she wants them to stop. She continues to cry even until her vocal chords are spent from the strain and no sound escapes her save the sharp inhaling of breath in between her whimpers. Behind her the house remains deadly silent, completely unaffected by her outburst: the door remains closed and the light sputters haplessly for life.

It's in that state in which Cato finds her later, worn and spent with dried tear-tracks on her face. He doesn't make any effort to comfort her, doesn't hold her or even pat her awkwardly on the back. Maybe it's because his hands are full – he's holding up two dead squirrels – or maybe it's because he knows that whatever he does cannot make her feel any better.

But he doesn't leave either, and somehow he ends up standing over her the whole time, listening, and offering nothing into the silence but the little comfort his presence brings. He doesn't judge.

Eventually Katniss wears herself out, and she scrubs a hand over her face in an attempt to compose herself before stumbling to her feet. Her eyes are red and dulled by pain and fatigue, but there's a new determination burning in them when she clears her throat slightly and addresses Cato.

"W-Where did you get those?" she asks in a hoarse voice, indicating the game hanging from Cato's bloody hands.

It's clear that she's refusing to acknowledge her break-down with that stubborn streak in her that still remains, but frankly Cato is glad for it and allows it to slide.

"I went hunting," he admits shortly, truthfully.

Katniss falls silent.

Cato doesn't mention that he's been fearing that all his work will be gone wasted when Katniss declares that the squirrels are inedible. He doesn't mention the white-hot fear and adrenaline coursing through him when he slips through the broken electric fence into the woods with a single goal in mind. He doesn't mention how many days he's been desperately tying snares and fashioning arrows to string with Mr. Everdeen's old bow he'd found. He doesn't mention his fingers are sliced and cut from all his attempts and his blood is mingling with the dead animals'.

But there is a light in Katniss' eyes. It's a light of hope, for survival, as if the flames within her have just been rekindled.

She doesn't throw herself around him in a hug, neither does she thank him at all. She stares, eyes wide as if she's forgotten to breathe, much like when he'd given her the berries earlier. But over the year he's got to learn a lot about her and Cato knows what she's thinking, so a corner of his mouth curls up into a smug smile, which he offers to her.

"You're welcome," he says with that familiar smirk of his.

It's the sudden, bizarre restoration of a semblance of normalcy that does the trick.

A short, disbelieving laugh startles out of Katniss, the fire in her eyes dancing, and Cato is promptly rewarded by a swift punch to his arm.

…

 **X**

She can't pinpoint an exact time when the line is drawn, but at some time after her life begins to revolve around her family, Cato is extended into inclusion.

Truthfully speaking she still doesn't know what she classifies Cato as. He still exasperates and angers her plenty of times, and when the quarrel between them gets especially heated she admits that she wishes him away. But she knows that wouldn't work out, because quite by accident she's come to rely on him unconsciously almost as much as Prim does rely on her. She loves her sister fiercely, but there are certain things Prim cannot achieve without maturity, and it's immensely comforting for someone else to be there to relieve her responsibilities, and to simply understand wordlessly.

In the few months that come to pass, she learns plenty. She can hunt now, and her archery is gradually outshining Cato's own even if he'd been the one to teach her. She is undefeatable when armed with bow and arrow, and she finds solace in hunting game in the forest, more often than not alongside Cato. She's managed to persuade Cato to teach her to fight, and during the times they're alone in the woods he complies, and she's astounded by how much he knows. She picks up each skill every Career in training learns the moment they're old enough to be enrolled into the Academy. She learns hand-to-hand combat, throwing long wooden spikes reminiscent of spears, wielding makeshift wooden swords and a few hunting knives Cato had secretly smuggled from his old district.

All in all she's the most contented after the mining accident that snatched Mr. Everdeen away from their home. Her favorite moments everyday are when Prim skips home from school and exclaims in wonder over the food she presents on the table, when she snuggles to sleep next to her, when Prim shows her a few sketches of her drawings in an adorable mixture of shyness and pride, when she skips and sings with a glowing joy of untarnished innocence. Her favorite moments are when Cato's teaching her things he's learnt from his Academy, when he quips a funny snarky retort with a level of sarcasm to match her own, when they're hunting together in the woods, reveling in the thrill of breaking the rules together, when he silently comprehends her unspoken pleas, even when he purposely tries to muss up her hair just to elicit a fiery response from her.

Secretly her greatest fears are for them both, if Cato and Prim are torn from her life.

Mrs. Everdeen remains an empty shell even if Prim manages to get her to eat sometimes. Katniss still hates her mother for breaking down selfishly, leaving her to fend for Prim, but at the same time she's all the more glad for Cato because she'd been a total loss before he caught her outside the Hob and gave her the berries.

She doesn't forgive her mother, but slowly she's beginning to understand. Prim can coax her mother to talk on some days, and Prim tells her things even if Katniss doesn't care to hear. Her mother had given up everything from her social status to money for her husband because she loved him too much. She didn't care if people scorned or her parents' anger. She could bear poverty and hunger and endure still. She could not move on again after her husband left, and all of it fell to the simple reason: because she couldn't bear the thought of living without him in her life.

It's the last line that strikes Katniss, with both fear and a rush of uncertainty when she's reminded of her own nightmares.

It's Prim who reminds her, but she doesn't tell anyone, not even Cato. But it serves to make her strive harder, to work and provide, because she has a purpose and responsibility that Cato can only share and none other can shoulder. She wakes up each morning revels in each day they're together, because she can't tell how long it'll last.

After all, she too knows that it's all ephemeral.

.

.

.

 **XI**

He leaves as silently as he comes.

They say he's finally been caught by Peacekeepers, and that he's already trialed for treason and his tongue cut off. Despite his Career heritage he's little more than an Avox now. Some say he's killed on the spot by orders of President Snow. Stories spring up surrounding his departure, rumors of his father being a rebel under cover, and him being shipped off to District 12 when they were found out. A few sigh sentimentally over his fate as if they would have treated him any better had he were still around.

Many are curious, but nobody dares to ask the young girl left in charge of the Everdeen household; they all notice the change in her following his departure. She becomes colder, quiet and withdrawn. Her eyes speak of an age far beyond her years, weary yet strong. Some say they're the eyes of a warrior. Frankly they are surprised that the flames in her burn still, trapped as she is by responsibilities weighing heavy as the world.

She's always seen walking alone down the streets in the Seam now, and even though they _know_ he's gone there's still something about her shadow that speaks of him. It's the way she walks, silent and swift, the way her eyes are always darting round the streets, observing, the way she's more often than not cold and aloof. The only other person she ever changes for is her little sister Prim.

But there's a significant difference between Katniss Everdeen now and the lost, defeated girl hovering outside the Hob ready to kneel before Cray years ago - a steely determination in her eyes that blazes on undeterred, unextinguished.

…

 **XII**

They never cross paths again.

Not until the 74th Hunger Games begins.

 _._

 _._

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 _Title inspired by 'I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings' by Maya Angelou. The theme written behind this story speaks mainly of hope, family and friendship: and it's as such that I find the title fitting._

 _Truth to be told I've never read the Hunger Games series neither have I watched the movies - I just jumped straight to fanfiction and learnt all I could from wikia. Perhaps it's due to that fact that Cato of all people became one of my favorite characters :p This is my first HG fic; I hope I've gotten most of the facts right, and even more I hope you enjoyed it. Please review! :)_


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